Pages

Thursday, 29 March 2007

pointy belly, coming through


On the left, my Beanie bump just after the 28 week mark. On the right, my Jack bump at 29 weeks:


Cripes, it's the third trimester already. Gah. Eeek.

Wednesday, 28 March 2007

quotes from a little boy


"NO SLEEP, MUMMY!" (when I attempted to shut my eyes for a few seconds, Jack decided to whack my leg and shout this at me until I opened them)
"Lie down, puppy! Lie down, mummy!" (but I refuse to fetch)
"I was sleeping." (which he did, all night - long may it last)
"No Jasper, that's MY juice!" (Jasper responded with a puzzled stare that said "Look kid, I'm only interested if you drop bits of your dinner or happen to be carrying a sandwich.")
"Daddy is doing a wee wee." (thank you for letting me know)
"Kick the baby!" (Jack had his head on my belly and I said "The baby's giving you a little kick!" Jack then put his foot on my bump and tried to give her a kick back.)
"HELLO BABY!" (shouted with his mouth directly on my bare belly)
"Daddy is getting puppy's poo!" (observation made while watching Paul scoop poop in the backyard)

Tuesday, 27 March 2007

a taste of lisa


I've been watching the new series from Nigel Slater called "A Taste of My Life", which although slightly sycophantic (is it just me, or does he look like he's secretly lusting after all of his guests, including Vanessa Redrave? Gads.) it's been quite interesting. Taking the lead from this programme, I've had a think about some of the food categories he discusses with his guests. Feel free to join in and fill in your own answers. Go on, play along!

Food of childhood: It's an odd combination of my Japanese heritage and my mother's penchant for soup-based casserole recipes clipped out of Chatelaine magazine. Foods that take me back to my childhood are my grandmother's sushi and chow mein, tuna casserole (take one box of cooked/prepared Kraft Dinner, add one tin of tuna and one tin of cream of mushroom soup, add peas and bake until the top is crunchy), lasagna (my mother's best dish), and chicken coated in Shake n' Bake. I'm amazed I'm still alive, frankly.

Food of love: The first thing Paul ever cooked for me was scrambled eggs on toast. He always does eggs perfectly (creamy and not overcooked); that morning he put mine on one slice of buttered toast, and cut another diagonally and placed it artfully on each side of the whole slice. We ate our breakfast on a little wrought iron table in my courtyard garden, on a gloriously sunny morning. Knowing that I had managed to bag a man who could cook made me the happiest girl on earth. And still does.

Food of success: My first "posh meal" at a gen-u-ine Michelin-starred restaurant was in September 2005 at the New Angel in Devon. It was nice, but we actually had a nicer meal the night before at the no-star restaurant Tanners in Plymouth.

Last meal: Depending on my mood, it would either be a proper roast dinner or something more elaborate involving fresh seafood and an authentic cheesecake for dessert. Then again, I'd possibly want a huge meal from my favourite Indian restaurant. Hmmm. Although I suppose if I knew it was my last meal, I'd likely be too nervous/traumatised to eat. Maybe I would just stick my head in a large tub of Green and Blacks vanilla ice cream.

Sunday, 25 March 2007

we've dipped our baby in bronze!


Back from our 3D scan, and we're over the moon. It's most definitely a girl because we saw her bum region in 3D - and a distinct lack of dangly bits. My pesky anterior placenta made it a bit tricky to get good shots without "interference" like a TV channel with bad reception (which makes me wonder what kind of weird things my placenta is emitting, frankly), but the fantastic news is, my placenta is no longer low and shouldn't pose a problem with a vaginal birth. Phew and yippie! Beanie was head down, her back to my side. At first, she had her nose right up against the uterine wall, making her look like she had her face pressed up against a glass window.

She's got a little upturned nose, just like her big brother:


and the same long fingers, too:


She enjoys doing baby yoga in her spare time:


and strummin' on the ol' umbilical cord:


Just because I did the same embarrassing thing to her big bro, here is a shot of her nether regions:

Wednesday, 21 March 2007

everyone else is doing it


Everyone I spoke to said that their child stayed in their bed for the entire night when they made the move from the cot. Everyone. So you can imagine my surprise and dismay when our son spent most of his first night out of the Big Boy Bed, putting up a fight every time we tried to return him to it. He settled in just fine but a couple of hours later, we heard a little thud and the pitter patter of toddler feet as they scampered down the hallway to our room several times until 1:30 in the morning. While this wasn't really a big deal because we decided to start this new sleep regime on a Friday (so the lack of sleep wasn't as much of a problem), it did mean a lot of getting up and down, which isn't exactly my forte these days. Thankfully, I have a marvellous husband who did the up and down bit for me. In exchange, he got a lie in. It all balances out, you see.

Jack's nighttime visits scare the life out of me. Until we get used to this, there is something incredibly alarming about being half awake in the middle of the night and seeing something standing at the end of the bed, staring at you and breathing heavily. On night two, he settled quickly and stayed in bed all night - hurrah! On night three, he took most of the evening to settle but did manage to stay in bed until the morning. At one point, I heard him get out of bed on the monitor so I made my way up the stairs. As I reached the top, all I could see was a little fuzzy-haired blur run past me from the office back to his bedroom. Like I wouldn't notice.

In general, he's been pretty good at staying in bed but he's been waking up at silly o'clock in the morning. Yesterday, he staggered out of his room in the wee hours and flopped down on the extra pillow I had next to my side of the bed, at which point Paul promptly returned him to his room. Must remember to look down before I step out of bed in future. I have to admit, I almost burst into tears when I first saw him snuggled up under the duvet in his Big Boy Bed for the first time. He just looked so grown up.

Then again, now I can look forward to those teenage years when our kids will stay in bed until noon on weekends and we can rediscover the concept of sleeping in and lazy mornings. Mmmm.

Sunday, 18 March 2007

a mother of a day


Today, my gave me a bouquet of ,
that came with a lovely box of .

He then insisted on helping me (although I'm not entirely sure why he needed to take his trousers off to do so, but there you go.)

Jack also gave me a little potted plant of some sort - they're just germinated seeds that he grew at nursery, so we're not sure what it is yet. If I manage not to kill it, I'll keep you posted. Paul cooked me a scrumptious dinner of duck and dauphinoise potatoes, followed by a lemon tart and a generous scoop of Green and Blacks vanilla ice cream. Best of all, I had a 1 1/2 hour nap this afternoon. Oh yes.

Happy Mother's Day.

Wednesday, 14 March 2007

the best medicine


When you're having a crappy week at work, there is no better remedy than lunch in the sunshine with a good friend and bouncing a beautiful baby girl on your knee. Combine with a fish finger sandwich, and now all is right in the world.

Speaking of food (when am I not talking about food, I ask you?), I was browsing the shelves at Let's Eat in Milton Keynes the other day. It's a food shop/sandwich bar that carries some American groceries, and I was curious to see what they had. I spotted a jar of Welch's grape jelly and with the gleeful "Ooooh!" of a 5-year-old with no taste buds, I grabbed it...and promptly put it back when I noticed the price: £4.99. That's right, almost $11 Canadian for something that my mother could get for me at Loblaws for around four bucks. Next time I go home, I'm filling an empty suitcase with Canadian junk food and bringing it back here to sell on eBay for a moderately inflated price. Kraft Dinner? For you, a special price: £1 a box.

Monday, 12 March 2007

only if it involves a walk to the fridge and back


So yesterday, I thought it would be a really good idea to get my vegetable corner ready for this year's planting. I emptied out bags of compost and pulled out a few weeds, then kicked a football around with Jack while we enjoyed our first Springy day.

So today, I spent all day alternating between the sofa and on my knees draped over a large beanbag* suffering from sciatica.

I'm telling you people, exercise is bad for the pregnant.

*which was particularly fun when my son decided that I looked like a horsie and jumped on my back for a ride.

Friday, 9 March 2007

very trying


I tried to do my pregnancy yoga DVD the other day, but it was impossible. Jack decided to cling to my leg or use my legs as a fun bridge-like structure. As soon as I went down on the floor, Jack climbed on my head and then the dog came running over and started licking my face.

I tried, and that's what's important.

Thursday, 8 March 2007

the very hungry caterpillar


I'm so hungry, but very annoyingly, either I run out of stomach space before I'm truly full or heartburn pays me a visit and kicks me in the arse. Why is this happening so soon this time? I didn't get to this point until the end of the third trimester with Jack. Maybe if I bounce up and down, the baby will move lower into my pelvis and I'll be able to gorge on ice cream and curry again. Must remember to borrow the neighbour's trampoline.

Jack is now officially addicted to television and makes repeated requests for his favourite programmes. Not that we comply all the time, but we do allow him regular viewings of Thomas and Pooh. When we don't want him to watch television, we'll tell him that "Pooh is sleeping right now." This will prompt a roll call just to check if some of the other characters are actually awake and willing to entertain him at the moment. "Pig-it?" "No, Piglet's asleep." "Ee-oh?" "Eeyore's asleep, too." "Tigga?" etc. I give it another six months before he learns how to work the Sky+ box to see if his shows have been deleted.

I've had three people in the past week say things to me like "Woooo! That bump is getting big!" I honestly don't mind - I love my growing belly and I'm extremely pleased to look pregnant and not just like I've spent too much time with my face in a pie tin.

And finally, I would like to say that under the bump maternity trousers suck. How on earth are they supposed to stay up? I've even tried using a belly band to hold things in place, but to no avail. Really, they make me look like a builder, and no one wants to see that.

Friday, 2 March 2007

movin' on up


From left to right: 14 weeks, 25 weeks, and for laughs, 24 weeks with Jack:



She'll be sitting under my chin by 40 weeks, I swear.

i just don't know what to do with myself


I'm at home all by myself today, and I feel like I should be doing something. I'm not off work sick, I'm on a gen-u-ine holiday while my husband slaves away at the office and my son is enjoying his first day in the Big Boy Room at nursery. It's been a hectic, chaotic, stressful two weeks. I had a short work week to complete a huge amount of writing without killing anyone (which is no small feat for the pregnant technical writer), baked brownies and cupcakes for various birthday functions for Jack, survived Jack's birthday party at our local play centre with 10 toddlers and 4 babies (oh thank the gods our kids are at the age where parents actually stay with their kids and don't just drop them off for parties), got us packed up for a weekend at the in-laws' for more birthday festivities, tidied up the bottom floor of our house in roughly 15 minutes (i.e. the amount of time between arriving back home and Paul picking up my parents at their hotel), and spent the past week entertaining/cleaning/cooking/trying not to fall asleep while my mom and dad were over for a visit. Now, for the first time since I was down with the Evil Cold Virus From Hell, I'm at home by myself with not a thing to do.

So what am I complaining about? I'm going to get caught up on the dozens of programmes yet to be watched on Sky+, do a bit of pregnancy yoga, and hang out with the dog. I might even have a nap; I haven't decided yet.

Nothing to do, indeed.